The One Rule
by ArcaFeretory
Summary: "I made you and I will unmake you just as easily. You're nothing, less than nothing, you have no power." - Another short drabble. I just like writing random things, really.
1. Chapter 1

**I still suck at titles. This ended up a bit longer than I expected so I've spread it out a little. This is - like I said - kinda related to that oneshot I did and kinda not. You don't have to read them both, but this one does sort of follow on. But it also stands by itself. So... whatever, I guess. :D**

* * *

It was a simple job, really. Nothing to complicate matters, clean cut. Get in, do some reconnaissance, scope out the threat and eliminate it. The easiest thing in the world. Or apparently not. Ever one to make judgements based on what she knew, Marceline was pretty convinced that there wasn't even a speck of threat to be found in the sugar-coated kingdom. The people were _literally_ marshmallows. What threat could they possibly be? What could they do; throw themselves at their attackers and induce a sugar high? The thought was comical.

She was starting to think this whole endeavour had just been misrepresented. The palace guards were bananas and had something akin to mush for brains. They weren't very alert, but they could detect her presence, if not do anything about it. The people moseyed about without a care in the world and they adored their leader. Their leader.

Marceline was sitting on the balcony railing as she did pretty much every night, watching through the window. Her legs swung beneath her invisible body and she leaned right back, her hair swirling out over the drop. The door clicked and the lights buzzed on. Marceline snapped upright, hands tightening painfully on the steel railing.

The little pink woman slammed the door behind her; she was fuming for whatever reason. Normally her butler would be with her; perhaps he'd been behind the door. A smirk ghosted across her face at the thought of the door banging on his nose. He was so… irritating. If he ever caught Marceline here… well… She didn't want to think too hard about that.

Her invisibility shimmered away just as the princess turned towards the window. Instantly her frown evaporated and she grinned. Who would ever have thought someone would smile at her like that? Who would ever have thought Marceline would be friends with a candy person? Yeah… no one.

Bubblegum opened the doors, still smiling. "Why do you always sit out there?" she queried. "Come in, it's warmer."

She drifted closer, waiting for the princess to step aside before the floated in, shutting the door behind her. "I don't want any unfortunate encounters with your butler," she said without thinking, sinking into the sofa. The cushion tilted beneath her as Bubblegum sat down too.

"You don't like Peppermint?"

Oops! She should've thought about that before just saying it. Bubblegum had developed a fondness for interrogating her since the evening in the gardens. For some reason she failed to identify, Marceline couldn't help but answer. Usually with the truth.

This time she just shrugged. "I'm a vampire, Bonnie. I'm not exactly easy to like." She draped one leg over the arm of the chair and rested her head back. "Besides, you already said your little dudes don't like vampires. Best not to stir them up too much, eh? I kinda don't want to be impaled by their bitty candy canes." She smirked.

Bubblegum puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe they'd like vampires more if they weren't jerks all the time."

"You callin' me a jerk, bubble-brain?" Marceline teased.

The other woman just huffed again. "I might be." She turned away. "There was another attack today," she whispered after a moment. "They're becoming more frequent. The people are scared."

"I _swear_ it's not me, Bonnie," Marceline said, her impish smile vanishing. "Promise."

The centre of Bubblegum's brow drew down and her mouth formed a thin line. Marceline knew that face; that was her thinking-about-sciency-questions face. It never boded well.

"Can vampires break promises?" The question was almost inaudible.

"Uh… duh," Marceline replied. She probably should've thought her answer through more. "Anyone can break a promise, Bon. You know that."

"Then how do I know you won't break yours?"

Marceline straightened, swinging her leg back over the chair and elbowed her friend in the ribs. "Would I lie to you, brainiac?" she asked. "Seriously. Why would I lie to someone who finds my company… I dunno… acceptable? Honestly. It's like you think I have friends stashed all over the place."

The sour look on Bubblegum's face disappeared and was replaced with a soft smile. Grod. It was nice when she smiled; she spent far too much time worrying about things.

"Why are they attacking us, Marcy?" Bubblegum slouched. Such poor posture was unlike her, but perhaps everything was weighing her down. A knot tightened in Marceline's stomach at the question, unsure if she could bring herself to answer. "What did we ever do to them?"

Her mind raced, trying to come up with a way she could answer the question truthfully without telling her friend why she really spent so much time here. Bubblegum watched her with intent green eyes. Normally these kinds of question were rhetorical, but apparently Bonnie wanted an answer. She felt dead inside; hollow.

Marceline stood and walked over to the window but she could still feel that penetrating stare on her back. She sighed. "They… um… _we_… are supposed to be making sure the candy people aren't a threat. The Vampire King ordered a test. We have to do what he says."

The silence was practically palpable. Bubblegum was still watching her, she knew, but she was afraid to turn around and see the horror in her eyes. Wait… afraid? No, that couldn't be right. She wasn't _afraid_ of a little pink woman made of sugar. That was ridiculous!

"You're a spy." The accusation rang painfully in Marceline's ears. And it was an accusation, not a question. The quiet stretched. "If they were here to kill me people, find our weaknesses… what are _you_ doing here? What's your job?" The words seemed to ramble, Bubblegum wasn't talking to Marceline anymore, she was just musing aloud. Working things through, and when she reached her conclusion with an almost audible click, the truth stung bitter, deep and Marceline felt… empty. "You're here for me. To find out everything you can, get close and then remove me. That's your job."

Horror. It resonated thick in Bubblegum's voice. Disgust and horror at being deceived. But not fear. Marceline knew the sound of fear in a person's tone and there was none of it when Bubblegum spoke.

"You were here to kill me."

"No," Marceline said vehemently, spinning to look at her friend – ex-friend – with wide eyes. "No. I'm not here to kill you." She balled her hands into fists, unclenched, clenched. Fingers moving, eyes staring, the hollow ache in her chest made her knees tremble. "To watch. To report. I'm not supposed to make any decisions, that's for the King." Her shoulders slumped. "I did break my promise, Bonnie. But not any I made you."

Bubblegum's mouth hung open. "What do you mean?" she eventually put forth. "What promise?"

"I was supposed to report in once a week on your doings," Marceline told her. And once the words started, she couldn't stop. "Your mannerisms, your methods, routines, the way you rule, treat your people. What military do you have? Technology, advancements, medicine, that kind of thing. Any of it, _all_ of it was to be sent back to the King. But… I stopped sending reports after the first two weeks. You did the same stuff every day and you have no army – not really. Your people are harmless. I sent that in my last report. He didn't listen…" she trailed off, staring at the flickering light of the desk lamp. "He ordered my return and your execution."

"What? Why?" Bonnie interrupted. "What's he want from you?"

Marceline's hands groped at nothing as she searched for words. "I… don't know. Probably to give me more instructions. He doesn't like you. He thinks your intelligence will one day make you a threat to us. He thinks you'll try to wipe us out."

Bubblegum frowned. "You know I'm not that kind of person. I would never…"

"Not unless we attacked first," Marceline finished bitterly. "But the King is the kind of guy who takes action to defeat any who might one day be a threat. Not the kind of guy to make peace treaties with them. He won't listen. He'll just kill you."

Bonnie was silent a long time. A very long time. She sat down at her desk and mindlessly pushed papers around, staring, but not seeing. Marceline stood there a while, watching her, wondering how heavy that crown really was. In the end, she left, ghostly, out the window. Bubblegum didn't see her go.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you know about vampires, Peppermint?"

The butler froze in the act of rearranging her tray. "Excuse me?"

"Vampires," Bubblegum was staring into nothing, the way she had been all afternoon. "You know some demons, right? Surely you know things about vampires."

His little black eyes darted around, surprised by her question. "I… uh, m'lady why the sudden interest?" His hands resumed their tidying.

Bubblegum shrugged. "Just with all those attacks recently, I thought it might be a good idea to gather some information on them. But the library has proved rather unhelpful and my enquiries from other sources has been-" She cut herself off, eyes refocusing on her room. Best not to mention Marceline, that wouldn't go over well. One thing they still agreed on at least.

Peppermint's eyes narrowed, he hadn't missed the abrupt end to her words. "I'm afraid I don't know a great deal, majesty," he informed her slowly. "They are ruled by a monarch, same as any other people – a king currently, I believe. I am… unaware of any country they rule however. Rabble."

She nodded. "And how does one become a vampiric monarch?" she pressed. It would be prudent not to take her questioning too far. Peppermint was quite a perceptive fellow.

He cleared his throat, pulling the tray close to his chest as though – should a vampire would fly through the window to kill him – the tray would be his only salvation. Secretly, Bubblegum wished a vampire _would_ fly through her window. But not to kill her butler.

"I… believe, m'lady, that to become the reigning monarch one must first kill the current one," he said in a voice that shook only a little. "If I may offer you a piece of advice… Don't ask too many questions about them. They're awfully touchy people… and violent. I'd hate for them to take your curiosity the wrong way." With a rigid jerk of his head, closing the conversation, he exited, back stiff. She wondered if he was afraid. She wondered if _she_ should be afraid.

"I think they've already taken it the wrong way, Peppermint," she murmured to the empty room. "But they're not all evil." She plunged the room into darkness and tried to ignore the creeping dread icing her stomach over as she went to sleep.

* * *

If Alain was a train, he'd be a steam engine, because his face was livid. A mottled red colour spotted with white and the pigment was quite the achievement for an undead fellow. Ok, maybe it was more of a horrid purple. It was still impressive.

His hands were claws, talons, clenching nothing but from his expression, he wished there was some form of live, wriggling prey being slowly tenderised in his hands. He'd never had these fits of rage before, this was a new thing. Brought on by power she was sure. All vestiges of normality seemed to have been banished long ago, now he was just plain crazy.

Red eyes flashed in her direction before darting onwards. It was just the two of them, but he wouldn't hurt her she was sure. He never had before, despite his fury and encroaching madness. What she hoped was madness, if this was him being sane it wasn't very reassuring.

"It was a _simple_ job, Marceline," he bellowed, finally making more concrete eye contact. "Simple. Go in and kill her. Done."

"She's no threat to you, Alain," she replied testily. "I put it in my reports and everything. Candy is not superior to vampires."

"I want her _dead_," he seethed, spittle flying everywhere. "Dead! You hear me, slag? _Dead_! I want you to fly back to that wretched kingdom and kill her."

Marceline folded her arms and kicked back, floating just a hands' breadth above the crimson carpets. "I won't do it."

Alain looked as though he was about to explode, literally, not just have a raging tantrum. Literally. Explode. "I want you to kill her," he hissed. "Do it, you ungrateful witch!"

"Nope. I won't. She's harmless, a big cream filled marshmallow who wouldn't hurt a fly." Marceline wasn't entirely sure if that was true, Bubblegum did have a dark streak, she'd seen it, from a distance. But Alain didn't have to know that. He didn't have to know that she'd do anything for her people. Anything, even hurt flies if she had to.

He flew about, moving like a sparrow, unsure where he wanted to go, what he wanted to be doing. "If you won't kill her," he said, pausing finally to stare at her, "then I guess I'll just do it myself." His smile was positively horrid, malicious and demented. Yup, he'd definitely lost the plot.

"Wrong again, Al," she said, smiling in a way she hoped didn't look forced. "You're not going to hurt her. I'm not going to let you."

His smile – if anything – became more twisted. "Is that a challenge, Abadeer?"

She shrugged, averting her gaze nonchalantly. Vampire's don't have heart beats, but she still wondered if he could hear hers pounding. There was that churning in her stomach again, biting nails, chilling cold. Nothing she couldn't identify on its own, but together…?

Refusing to look at him might have been a mistake. No, scratch that, it _was_ a bad idea. She didn't see the hand spring out of nowhere to clout her in the face and send her sprawling. Marceline collided with the wall with a loud _crrrrrreck_! Sharp lines ran up the wall and several bricks, loose with age and neglect, slid from their places to smack her in the head. It took a lot to down a vampire, but Alain was strong and he hadn't held back. Her vision wavered.

"I'm going to kill your little sugary friend, Marceline," he said softly, sinister. "You can't stop me. But you can die trying."

Her gaze went blank.


	3. Chapter 3

But only for a moment, thank Glob. Shaking rubble from her hair she staggered to her feet and raced towards the door. Alain was already gone, but he couldn't have gotten far and he'd made one very big mistake: he'd left her alive. Also, he bass was by the door, she snatched it as she screamed past and crashed through the wall, ignoring the door, it'd be locked anyway.

A few pairs of red eyes followed her path as she tore through the night, but her leaving in such a hurried flurry wasn't unusual. She had a reputation for being impatient. It didn't matter how hard she strained, how the wind dragged at her hair, she couldn't seem to move fast enough.

The lights of the Candy Kingdom finally danced into view and she put her head down, not daring to imagine she might be too late. She didn't even bother trying to be sneaky; she just shrieked above the heads of the startled banana guards and headed for Bubblegum's window.

It had been torn from its hinges and now lay in a twisted heap, sprawled over the railing. Her stomach did a backflip and this time there was no denying, no getting around it; she was scared. Terrified.

But not too late.

Alain was just stepping into the room and she didn't slow, just barrelled straight into him. They tumbled through the room and smashed out the far window. He snarled and dug his claws into her shoulders. His long nails shredded her coat, ripped at her hair, her face, her arms, but she didn't let go.

They cannoned into the dirt of the gardens, carving a great swathe through the bushes. Now Marceline released him, planting both feet into his stomach and heaving him away as hard as she could. He put a nice hole in one hedge before collapsing to the ground on the far side. Marceline snatched her bass from her back and launched after him, already swinging, screaming at him. He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding her first blow and swept her legs out from under her. But, duh, vampires can fly and she didn't hit the ground, merely shot out of the way mid-air as his fist slammed through the place her head had just been.

She skittered around behind him and swung again. This time, he caught the axe on the follow through and heaved. Still holding onto the handle, she arced through the air over his shoulder and into the ground at his feet. He planted one booted foot on her throat to keep her from slipping away again.

"How dare you defy your king," he ground out between clenched teeth. "How dare you interfere with my will? I made you and I will unmake you just as easily. You're nothing, less than nothing, you have no power."

"I have one thing you don't have," she spat. "I have a friend. And I won't let you hurt her." Still gripping her axe tightly in one hand, she wrenched it upwards with as much strength as she could, burying the blade into his back.

Alain shrieked, stumbling away, freeing her and fell to his knees a few steps away. Marceline tottered over to him. She had never been as strong as him and even this little tussle had left her feeling drained. She had to stop him. Stop him now, forever.

"You think she's your friend?" he asked venomously. "You think she cares for you at all? You lied, spied and tried to kill her. Some friend." His words were smooth, delivered with a healthy dose of honey, designed to make her doubt herself. Marceline was beyond caring.

"Doesn't matter," she sighed, grabbing his face in her hands and leaning in close. "Even if she never speaks to me again, I know what it's like to have a friend, Alain. Something you never had once in your miserable existence. Something you'll never have because you're a monster. A power hungry monster. And you are afraid. But not of her, you're afraid of us – your people. Of me." With that, she yanked her arms sideways and up. Alain's eyes seemed about to burst from his skull and with a sickening _pop-schllurrrrp_ his head was ripped from his neck.

The body slumped over, collapsing like… like… well like a body with nothing holding it up anymore. A sack with nothing in it, a house with no supports… an empty shell, lifeless. Exhaling heavily, Marceline bounced the head once on her hand before tossing it over her shoulder with a grim smile. She levered her axe free of Alain's back with a rough creaking sound and a wet suck. Dusting her bloodied hands on her pants she turned, not ready for what she saw.

"Uh… yo," she said awkwardly to the little butler. His arms were crossed and his face wore an expression of disapproval. So… he looked pretty normal really. He always seemed to have a stick jammed up his butt.

"Miss Abadeer I do believe you've wrecked the gardens," he intoned.

"Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "What is your problem? I just saved your little princess alright? Let me have this one, geez." It was what now… four hundred years ago? The silly striped sweet still hadn't forgiven her for accidentally snapping his favourite golfing iron in two. "How many times do I have to apologise?"

"You're nothing but trouble, Marceline," Peppermint said flatly. "Can't you just live somewhere peacefully?"

She grinned. "And what fun would that be, eh, Stripes?" She lifted off her feet to peer down at him from a satisfactory height.

They simply stared for a moment, Peppermint with a disgruntled glare and Marceline with a cheeky smile. "You haven't changed," he sighed. "And you're no basis on which to judge your kind really, but that doesn't mean I like you hanging about." He paused, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Yet… perhaps you can have some positive influence on your rabble."

Her smiled widened. "You know what I'm planning to do with my Rule, don't you, Stripes?"

His little black eyes gave nothing away, but the smile flickering around his mouth did. "Best you be careful, Miss Abadeer. Your father-"

"-had better have nothing to say about this, Peppermint," she warned, cutting him off. "Breath a word about Bubblegum and demonic dreams will be the least of your worries." Her eyes narrowed, hoping he took her seriously for once. He never had been able too, but she'd show him yet.

Finally a smile leaked through. "She'll never know you were here, and neither will he. But I-"

She waved him to silence. "Nah, Stripes, look. You keep this quiet and I'll do my bit. Hey, I might even get you a new club for your birthday. I was never here. Got it?"

"You know she'll find out eventually."

"Probably, but in the mean-time, you just pretend the guards are better at their jobs than everyone thinks."

"Deal."

It was simple really. Kill the Vampire King to become the new monarch and every time leadership changed hands the vampires were given a rule to live by. One unique to each leader. One that defined their role, their values and qualities. A rule that decided how many disgruntled followers would rise up to challenge the position.

Marceline had one rule and One Rule only: don't kill, not even to feed. Drink blood if it's donated willingly. Otherwise… pick a colour. Any colour. But she called dibs on red.


End file.
